us as we pass. A Spaniard,
with his dark-faced wife, step out of the path--all manner of oily words
dropping from their lips. We reach the Righi-Staffel. Suddenly, upon one
side, the land falls away. Among the reverberating hills echoes the
_joedel_, and from a terrace far below, where a herd of dun cows are
feeding, rises the tinkle of sweet-toned bells. From every path--and
there are many now--winds a slow procession. The grassy slopes are all
alive with people; the hotel piazza, as we pass, is crowded with
travellers. Still they pour in from every side. Still the mountain-peak
rises above us as we go on joining other trains, and leading others in
turn. We pass through a rough gateway, ascend the broken rocks that rise
like steps, follow again the narrow path, and reach at last the hotel,
just before which rises the Kulm.

Talk of the solitude of nature! It is not found among these mountain
peaks, grand though they are. We dismounted in the midst of a noisy
crowd. Exclamations in seemingly every known tongue echoed about us, as
one party after another arrived to swell the confusion. The hill before
us swarmed with tourists, who had come, like ourselves, to see the sun
rise. The hotel, and even the adjoining house into which the former
overflows, were more than full. Since we had taken the precaution to
telegraph,--for telegraphic communication is held with most of these
mountain resorts,--some show of civility awaited us. A single room was
given to the four ladies of our party, where, a few hours later, we
disposed ourselves as best we could. It was only a rough place, with
bare plastered walls, and unpainted wooden floor; but we were not
disposed to be fastidious. Dropping our satchels, we hastened up the
hill before the house. It fell in a precipice upon the other side--to
what frightful depth I know not. Down below, the hills spread out like
level land, with lakes where every valley should be, and villages, like
white dots only, upon the universal green, among which the River Reuss
wound like a silver thread. But above and over all, against the sky,
rose the mountains--the Bernese Alps, like alabaster walls, the gates of
which, flung back, would open heavenward.

We wandered over the hillocks, which make up the summit, until the sun
was gone. Gradually the darkness gathered--a thickening of the shadows
until they seemed almost tangible. There was no flame of gold and
crimson where the sun had disappeared; there w